They had been in town for two weeks as John worked a hunt in the next town. Dean had immediately found a group of friends that were into hanging out making out and raising all around hell. Sam was somewhat diffident as always but he managed to latch onto a couple of kids.

With the hunt being so close John was able to be around a lot and Dean found himself a tad frustrated at losing his freedom. He was so used to having quite a bit of independence and with Sam being 12 Dean could leave for awhile without too many problems. Sammy was very good about keeping mum about Dean's habits when John was away. He had understood the times when Dean had covered for him and was now mature enough to return the favor. Dean always made sure he was home by the time Sam went to bed and never left him for more than a few hours. But it was now rolling into hour number three and getting quite late as Dean stood outside the supposed haunted house. This was so far past his better judgment it wasn't even in the same solar system, but Dean never backing down from a dare stood his ground. "Just go in shine the flashlight when you get to the front bedroom upstairs and then come back down," Brad said.

Dean knew better than this, John had drilled into their heads that when it was said a place was haunted don't go in! It was said over and over and expected to be followed at all times. So it was merely keeping up appearances, his tough exterior not being tarnished that he was willing to be out when he wasn't supposed to, walk right into a house that probably held some kind of malevolent spirit and totally disobey on every level. But hey he was double dog dared and nothing would stop this quest.

Dean blew out a mouthful of air and gave one last look at his posse and walked past the for sale sign staked in the yard to the front door. He smiled as he opened the storm door and turned once again as he shoved the final barrier aside and made his way into the house. He took a moment to get his bearings and allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness of his surroundings. He waited to see if the hair went up on his neck but so far nothing. Maybe this was a hoax and he could just get through it without incident. He smiled a toothy grin and switched on his flashlight and made his way to the staircase.

Outside the small assemblage saw the flashlight come on. "He's in the living room," Cody said. "Let's see if he has the spine to go upstairs," he said as he glanced up at the dark window.

Suddenly a dark form passed by the bedroom window causing Cody to gargle his words and he could only manage to point. Brad and Lisa looked up trying to figure out what had rendered their friend tongue tied but soon saw the shape pass by the window one more time. Brad wasted no time yanking the car door open and fumbling with the keys dropping them on the floor. Cody yelled for Lisa to get in the car but she was half way up the walk. "We can't leave Dean he is in the house," she said watching the beam of light leave the living room area.

"Yeah well if you want to warn him you are going to have to follow him upstairs," Brad yelled shoving the key into the ignition.

Lisa was okay with opening the door and yelling but she in no way was going any further or was she okay with being left behind. She turned whispered an apology into the night air and turned tail and ran back to the car.

Dean climbed the carpeted steps to a hallway and turned himself around so he could find the bedroom in question; the bedroom that a murder suicide supposedly took place causing the believed haunting. The house was just as if the family decided to walk out one night leaving everything as it was; the furniture all remained and it seemed as if he was intruding on family time.

He made his way into the bedroom and to the front window but when he looked out his friends were gone, vanished, no kids no car no ride back to the apartment. The distraction did not help Dean realize there was a shadow on the wall. The streetlight allowed a trickle of illumination into the room and it was enough for Dean to recognize he was no longer alone.

The hair was most definitely standing up on his arms, neck and every other part of his body. He was ill prepared and he hoped he could just get the hell out of there without any bodily damage. But it was no use as he tried to evade the large shape that had him locked up in no time asking what he was doing there. Dean prepared to fight what would be a losing battle when something seemed very familiar about his predator.

"Dad?" he questioned.

"What the hell?" John asked spinning the teen around and dragging him to the window. "Oh you better have one fantastic story to tell me," he said quickly folding his arms and giving Dean the death stare.

"No not really," Dean said figuring that was the best he had to offer.

The anger was dripping from John as he stared at his eldest. "Well then let me tell you a story, this one has words and numbers. You are out without permission leaving your brother and that is ONE. You are in a hunt without any idea of what you are hunting or any sort of preparation both of which you know better and that's TWO," John said counting his son down to certain disaster.

"But Dad I wasn't hunting, I didn't prepare cause it was just a dare," Dean said suddenly realizing that was the dumbest thing he could have done.

"You did this on a dare? A dare? That's THREE for pure STUPIDITY!" John yelled grabbing his son by the ear and dragging him towards the door.

"But he double dog dared me," Dean tried.

This only caused Johns grip to tighten.

Finally with Dean's ear a bright shade of red they went around the corner to the Impala.

"So I get back into town and figure I'll check out this house that rumor has that it's haunted. So I pull up and all see is a gaggle of teenagers watching the house so my radar goes off that somebody must be in there doing something stupid. I go in the backdoor make my way upstairs and wait for the fool to show up. Imagine my surprise when the fool is my own son; your friends by the way who vanished at the first sign of my shadow; way to pick them son."

"So you knew it was me?" Dean asked.

"No not until I grabbed you. I just planned to scare the kid so they would spread the word and no more morons would trespass," John paced back and forth while Dean leaned against the Impala for support. "You are in so much trouble I don't even know where to start. You leave your brother alone, you walk into a house that very well might be haunted, and you're out past curfew and all for a dare. Boy I ought to kick your ass from here to oblivion."

John continued to rant while Dean's mind began to wander, thinking of his buddies who ditched him, thinking of Sam waiting at home. He finally snapped back to reality when John popped him in the mouth. "You listening?"

"Yes sir," Dean said straightening up.

"Then what did I just say?"

"Um, um."

"That's what I thought, son you just hit four."

Dean just stood there in abject horror. Four was a first for him never attained by a Winchester before now; yep Dean was a regular trailblazer. There was going to be no deliverance from this and he feared recovery would be a long process. The air had been combustible and Dean had just lit the match. John just blew the air out of his mouth slowly causing his cheeks to puff out. Dean looked around at the dark street and was unsure of what unabashed hostility would head his way. He wasn't too keen on going home as Sam would no doubt at the very least hear the dreaded punishment but Dean also wasn't too eager about staying in this location on the street in full view of numerous windows.

John looked around at the darkened portals of the nearby homes and the ire that he had managed to push down resurfaced with a vengeance. His son, his son who knew better had put himself at possible risk for a dare; a stupid kids game. Sam was alone and apparently his standing orders of watch out for your brother along with don't seek out a hunt on your own had been totally disregarded. John had intended to drive to the privacy the apartment offered, but he found his rage in need of immediate release. Maybe being in an open albeit abandoned public space might just allow John to keep some kind of control.

Before Dean could register his fate he was being dragged to the hood of the Impala and found himself in an odd intimacy with the car he loved so much his cheek feeling the coolness of her exterior. The surroundings seemed to have been placed on mute as Dean heard that ever familiar sound of his father's belt being freed from its confines. He silently cursed as he had nobody to blame for this but himself. He knew this would be an award winner of an experience he could hang on the wall like a prized kill. Before he could even steel himself for what was to come the barrage had begun.

The first several blows took his breath away but he maintained a quiet resolve but as John was reminded of his anger it was quickly transferred to the jean clad target.

There was no way the kid was going to get what he deserved for so casually betraying the rules. He had placed stupidity in the highest regards while allowing common sense, safety and the wellbeing of himself and his brother fall to the wayside. It was damn near unforgivable.

Dean could no longer swallow his pain and began to cry out. He had brought his hands up over his ears as his forehead was now touching the hood. His face wet with the fall out of his punishment he tried to direct his auditory reaction to the vehicle that supported him his mouth screaming at the metal beneath him. He had passed the apology stage and was now just sobbing, he had been right about one thing this was turning out to be the mother of all lashings. But who was he kidding, now that he had time to think about it he deserved every lick. He had placed trivial fun on a higher plane than safety and there was no excuse for that. He was so lost in thought he hadn't even realized it was over. John grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him off the car.

"Get in," he directed as he relocated his belt to its rightful place.

Dean did as he was told feeling the fullness of his punishment as he slowly sank into the seat. John remained quiet the entire ride back even with Dean's gasps at every bump and the continuous job of wiping his tears away.

They finally arrived back at the apartment they were staying at and as Dean tried to swing his legs out John met him offering a hand. He pulled his son up and close to him giving him a bear hug and holding him tightly. Dean felt a shudder as his father hugged him even tighter. All the man could see is what could have happen, the feared disaster that loomed around every corner just waiting for one of his sons to show up and claim it.

Dean winced his rear screaming at the sentence it was handed. He knew why his dad was so upset and found it understandable but at that moment he wasn't wildly fond of him and just wanted to get away. But then with the second shudder he realized his dad was holding back his own tears.

"I'm sorry Dad," Dean said.

John thrust the boy out in front of him. "If you ever, and I mean ever do any such thing again, you can consider what just happened a picnic. You ever take your life that lightly again and I don't care how old you are I will repeat what happened tonight and some. Am I clear?"

Dean was exhausted mentally and physically and couldn't grab a thought from his spinning brain.

"Do you understand me boy?" John asked with command.

Finally the cloud cleared and Dean could spit out the words demanded to hear. "Yes sir."

"Now get your ass up to bed."

"Yes sir," Dean repeated and began his slow shuffle off to the room he shared with Sam.

Should I dig for more "boy's in trouble" stories from my archive?

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